False face must hide what the false heart doth know
by megsimo
Summary: Merlin and his fellow sorcerers attack and capture Camelot. Morgause leaves it to Merlin to break the young captured Prince. At first Arthur feels only hatred for the sorcerer who stole his kingdom but soon begins to see a side to Merlin that he keeps very very closely hidden.
1. Chapter 1

A/n: This idea has been niggling me for a while. I'm going to try and do weekly regular updates so hopefully I should really get into this!

Title is from Macbeth. Idk, it kinda fitted! Also on AO3

* * *

As the city of Camelot burned from the sorcerer's attack, Merlin took his place on the throne lounging back with a smile as their warriors reported that Uther had turned tail and fled the city. Uther was a coward and Merlin had expected nothing less of the tyrant king. Uther would not be able to run for long however, their men would hunt him down and bring him to justice.

Beside him, Morgause stood, leaning against the throne inspecting her nails. Morgana was stood be the window, watching something going on down in the courtyard below. Her face was slightly pale and Merlin watched her for a moment. He was never quite sure with Morgana. She was committed, he knew that, she would give her life for their cause, however, that did not change her feelings towards Camelot, the place that had once been her home.

"What do you see Morgana?" he asked quietly, resting his elbow on the arm of the throne and leaning his head on his fist.

"We've secured the courtyard," Morgana said, not taking her eyes from the view below. Something in her tone however made Merlin want to know more.

"_And_ ..." he prompted.

"We've taken Arthur," she said, her tone attempting light but Merlin could hear the tremble.

"What?" he jumped to his feet, Morgause moving beside him.

"They're bringing him in."

Morgana was paler than she had been and Merlin was motionless. A captured Prince. What sort of trouble could that cause?

"Peace, my lord," came Morgause's silky voice from beside him, a hand on his arm and a small curl to her lips. "Arthur's capture is a good thing. We will break him and through him, break Uther, destroying all he holds dear.

"Break him?" Merlin asked, raising an eyebrow, relaxing slightly and stepping back to sink down again onto the throne.

Morgause smiled wider.

"I have my methods."

Merlin pressed fingers over his lips frowning slightly and letting silence fall for a moment.

"No," he said eventually, "I'll do it."

Morgause shifted in surprise.

"Are you sure my lord?"

Merlin didn't like the way she said his title. It sounded more like a mockery every time she did.

"Yes," he replied stiffly. "I am Emrys, newly crowned king, delighting in the spoils of my new kingdom. Surely I deserve a little ... _fun_?"

Morgause looked marginally impressed and nodded her assent.

Merlin leaned back again and smiled lightly.

Glancing over, he saw Morgana had not moved.

"Morgana, I think it would be best if you weren't here when Arthur arrives. Perhaps you should retire."

Morgana looked startled at the command but after glancing at Morgause, who nodded, she left, slipping out of the room just a a knock came on the doors.

"Enter!" Merlin called.

The doors opened revealing four of their men restraining a blond haired man who was struggling in their gasp.

Merlin had never met the Prince before but he'd heard the tales of his renowned good looks. The tales did not lie. If anything, they failed to comprehend the sheer godliness of the Prince, even red-faced and struggling as he was in the soldier's grasp.

They had either removed his armour, or perhaps he had never had time to put it on when the attack started. He had no sword and as the soldiers forced him to his knees, they bound his hands behind his back. As they stood back however, he raised his chin, defiant to the last.

"Prince Arthur," Merlin said, not moving from his seat. He was the Prince as Arthur watched him, each studying the other. "Or should I just say Arthur? I'm afraid we'll have to remove you of your title."

Merlin let a smile tug at his lips as he watched Arthur's glare deepen.

"You'll be sorry to hear your father has left, he didn't wait for you," Morgause, spoke with satisfaction.

Arthur however gave a small snort. "That was the idea," he replied, a hint of smugness in his tone.

Merlin briefly let his magic crackle at his finger tips and he saw Arthur flinch.

"Do you know who we are Arthur?" he asked.

"All I know is that you've taken a throne you have no right to, have destroyed the city and taken innocent lives. And you're sorcerers," he added, glancing warily at Merlin's fingers.

"Very good," Merlin drawled.

He enjoyed this, watching Arthur defiance. At first he had been repelled by Morgause's suggestion to _break_ the Prince. But now, now he was tempted, Arthur was so like his father, he had so far to fall.

"So when are you going to execute me?" Arthur asked after a moment's silence.

Merlin shared a smile with Morgause.

"Oh we won't be killing you just yet," Morgause said, "There's still much you can tell us about Camelot and Uther's plans. And well ... we're eager to fully delight in the spoils of our victory."

For a moment, Arthur clearly didn't understand, but then he did and he visibly swallowed before hardening expression.

"I won't say or do anything you want me to."

Morgause outright laughed, the sound caused Merlin's skin to tingle.

"Oh believe me little Prince, if it gets to that point, you won't have a _choice_."

The other men in the room were laughing and the was a hint of a blush on Arthur's cheeks.

"Take to his chambers, they're as good as any for me to call me own," Merlin said, pushing himself upright in the throne.

Arthur glowered again before he was roughly pulled to his feet.

"You're all the same, you sorcerers, vile, evil things," Arthur spat as the men began to drag him out the room, "no matter what you do, this kingdom will never fall, the people will never turn to you!"

Merlin let his magic rise up at the jibe, letting a single burst lash out at the Prince. Arthur's head snapped to the side from the invisible blow and he felt silent, gasping for breath. When he turned to face the throne again, Merlin wasn't smiling any more.

"You should start to learn some obedience," Merlin growled, purposefully letting his eyes flare gold. Arthur flinched again. "Soon very soon, you will bow before me, swearing your allegiance and life blood to me."

Arthur jutted out his chin. "I will never bow to you."

Merlin jerked his head, fed up with the Prince's games and signalling for the soldiers to take him away. Arthur kept his firm, stony gaze on Merlin until he was out of the room and out of sight.

Only once he was gone did Merlin relax.

"Don't worry my lord," Morgause said, "I'm sure you can break him."

Merlin nodded, standing up, his back straight.

"For now though," Morgause continued, "Camelot is ours. We are victorious."

"Yes," Merlin smiled. "We are."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thanks for reviews and favourites! Feedback is appreciated :)

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_He was sixteen when Morgause found him, carefree and innocent, happy to keep his magic a secret only to let it burst forth in the woods beyond the village and send flowers into bloom wherever he stepped. He understood his mother's cautions and whilst he never was happy with the fact he had to deny the truth about himself, he never thought to fight. _

_Until she came._

_At first she had tried to talk him into joining her cause. But Merlin had said no, his mother's hand tight in his. _

_She had taken him from his mother, and talked to him again, persistent that Uther needed to be overthrown, that magic needed to rule. He had said no again and her anger flared up, she hit him across the face and he staggered back. No one had ever hit him before. _

_She'd taken hold of his arm and whispered a spell, transporting them into a world of darkness before the darkness solidified and show a courtyard, filled with people, a pyre built in it's centre, a woman bound upon it. _

_"Where are we?" Merlin had asked, trembling with fright. _

_"My memories," Morgause had replied coldly. _

_The pyre had been lit, the woman had burned. _

_"Who was that?" Merlin had asked, once they had left her mind, the woman's screams still ringing in his ears. _

_"My sister, Nimueh."_

_"Why did she die?"_

_"Because she had magic."_

_"But -"_

_"But nothing Merlin. That is the fate that faces every single one of us because of who we were born to be. Our duty is to stand up and fight."_

_When they returned to Ealdor, Merlin went to his mother and explained what he had seen. _

_"I have to go, you understand mother?"_

_She nodded, then cried and Merlin held her. _

_"I just hope you're still my boy when you come back."_

_He left with Morgause, his magic immediately put to use in aiding bandit attacks throughout the kingdom. _

_He never liked to kill, but somewhere along the way, he got used to it. And, as Morgause often reminded him, it was for the good of the cause._

_Somewhere on his journey, perhaps after his mother died when Uther failed to send aid to Ealdor in times of need, perhaps then was when the darkness crept in. When he forgot about the boy who loved to bring the world to life and turned into the sorcerer who was feared for his destruction and the death that followed his every step. _

* * *

They left Arthur alone in his room, still in a state of untidiness from where he had had to run and aid the knights against the magical attack.

They'd managed to get his father out of the city, and for that Arthur was glad, but the sorcerer's men had closed in on him and taken him to the throne room.

_Break him_. Well if that was what they planned to do, they were going to have a hard time.

They had locked the door and he presumed it was guarded on the other side. Going to the window, he looked down and grimaced when he saw the courtyard swarming with enemy soldiers.

Trying a different tack, he immediately began searching the room for weapons.

His sword he'd lost in the fight but he retrieved his dagger from under the bed and slid a knife, left behind from his breakfast, into his belt. Then he began assessing the room for places to hide. He reasoned that when taking on a sorcerer, an element of surprise was key. He had no gauge on the sorcerer's powers but any enemy could be taken down if they were unprepared for a fight.

His searching for a suitable hiding place was cut short when he heard footsteps approaching the door. Dashing to conceal himself behind the cupboard, Arthur steadied his breathing and tightened he grip on the dagger as the door opened.

The footsteps paused, the sorcerer, and he presumed it was the man, hesitating as he found the room empty. The man walked further into the room, into Arthur's line of sight and looked around in slight confusion and a pinch of worry in the middle of his brow.

Arthur waited.

The sorcerer walked to the bed and knelt to peer under it.

Arthur seized the opportunity and sprang from his hiding place, dagger raised to strike.

His blow never landed however. When he got within a meter of the sorcerer, he hit some sort of shield and was blasted backwards off his feet.

The sorcerer turned, a smirk tugging at his lips as he surveyed Arthur, lying winded on the floor.

With a glow of his eyes, the dagger in Arthur's hand grew suddenly boiling hot and he dropped it with a yelp.

"You would be wise to realise you are powerless against me," the sorcerer said.

"I had to at least try and escape didn't I?" Arthur grumbled slightly, cradling his burned hand.

The sorcerer raised an eyebrow in amusement. "And for that I commend you, but we can't allow it to happen again can we?"

He chanted a spell and from nowhere a thin silver chain sprang into being, one end fastened to the bedpost, the other to a cuff on Arthur's ankle.

Arthur reached to pull at it but as his fingers brushed the metal, burning pain shot through his flesh.

Snatching his hand away, he winced as he realised both his palms were now burned.

The sorcerer rolled his eyes.

"And they said you were intelligent."

Arthur reddened at the insult, getting to his feet and moving away from the sorcerer. He walked until he reached the end of the chain and then dropped down to sit with his back against the wall. His breakfast knife, he noted, was still in his belt.

The sorcerer rolled his eyes and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Arthur blurted.

Pausing the sorcerer turned to face him.

"Does it concern you?" he asked bluntly.

Arthur shrugged. "You've captured me ... I don't even know your name."

The sorcerer blinked. "It's M-" he hesitated, then swallowed. "Emrys."

He was gone in a swirl of his cloak and only once the door was shut did Arthur let himself cradle his hands, blinking back tears at the pain. He forced himself to snap out of it almost immediately however. He was the Prince of Camelot, he had been trained to master all kinds of physical pain. He needed to stay strong, for Camelot.

Getting up, he paced a little, trying to figure out a plan. He couldn't escape until the chain was removed and that wouldn't happen until the sorcerers believed they had well and truly broken him. So, he had to let them think that.

The idea repulsed him but he needed to do what was necessary. He made plans to see if anyone else still loyal to Camelot was still in the city, imprisoned or in hiding and then he thought through every action the sorcerers had made against him and Camelot so far, trying to determine how powerful they really were.

His conclusions weren't happy ones but he satisfied himself knowing that every enemy, no matter how strong had a weakness.

Eventually, he grew tired and looked around the room for somewhere to sleep. The bed seemed like too much of an open invitation and so he took one of the rugs from the bed and spread it on the floor as near as the chain would allow him to the warmth of the fire.

Curling up, he lay facing the door, ready in case anyone should come in. After a long time waiting with no one arriving, he let his eyes fall shut, drifting into an uneasy sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I can't say thank you enough for the response to this fic! The feedback is wonderful :)

* * *

When he woke, he blinked in surprise at the blanket that was covering him. Night had faded to morning and the fire was long dead in the hearth. He wondered who had given him the blanket to stay warm.

Upon looking around, he discovered he was not alone in the room. Shooting upright, he narrowed his eyes at the female sorcerer, sat at the table, toying with his dagger which he had lost in the fight yesterday.

"Ah, you're awake," she stated, not taking her eyes off the point where the dagger was working a hole in the wood.

"Where's Emrys?" Arthur asked, not entirely sure why, but feeling the dark haired sorcerer was a lot safer to be around than this woman.

"_King_ Emrys - really Arthur, you should learn to use your master's title correctly. You can address me as Lady Morgause, or mistress."

Arthur regarded her coolly.

Looking up from her vandalism of the table, Morgause smirked.

Realising he wasn't going to get any information from he unless he played the game, Arthur shifted and swallowed.

"Where is the King?" he asked, disgust rising in his throat. He had sworn allegiance to his father, his true king, till death. Even in this small act, he felt the guilt of betrayal.

"He is busy with matters of court," Morgause responded. "He told me about your little game last night. I see he had to restrain you accordingly."

Remembering the chain for the first time since he'd woken up, Arthur pulled at it lightly.

"I wanted to take a much more brutal approach. If I'd had my way you'd have been down in the dungeons, whipped until you know longer knew your own name and then ... well, we won't go into the details. Emrys made me back down however, said his approach would work."

"And what is his approach ... my Lady," Arthur added after a hesitation.

Morgause smirked once again. "Wait and see."

Arthur didn't know which made him more uncomfortable, the cold, impassive tone with which she'd described his possible torture, of her clear excitement in what lay in store for him.

"I won't break. I'll never betray Camelot."

Arthur realised he really should learn that defiance was getting him nowhere. The dagger flashed out of nowhere, slicing across his cheek of its own accord. Arthur flinched at the pain but refused to wipe away the blood that was trickling down his cheek.

Morgause was inspecting her nails.

_She's easily angered_ _though_, Arthur thought to himself, filing the thought away for later.

"He is far more dangerous than you can ever imagine, his power knows no limits," Morgause said impassively. "And for what you've done to me and my kind, you would be wise not to test mine."

She left the room, her threat hanging in the air.

Arthur brought his hand up to his cheek, wiping at the blood which had collected there. His hand came away stained red and he grimaced.

_You could be a lot worse off though_, a voice said in his head. Part of the fear he was feeling deep in his stomach, was that Emrys and Morgause hadn't really _done_ anything. ... Yet.

He had dropped off to sleep again when he heard the door opening. This time he got to his feet, determined to appear strong.

The person who appeared shocked him however.

"Gwen!" His exclamation was both of relief and fear.

"Arthur ..." Gwen blinked at him, her gaze finding his cheek.

"It's nothing," he said, "just a scratch."

"I expected to find you worse," Gwen said, coming into the room fully, standing almost awkwardly before Arthur.

Arthur shook his head, slightly bemused at that fact as well. "They haven't done anything."

"They sent me to clean the room," Gwen said, gesturing around at the general state of untidiness.

"My manservant clearly was distracted yesterday ..." Arthur trailed off. He didn't know what had happened to George. The thought made him slightly sick.

"Don't worry, I'll sort it."

Arthur blinked in surprise as Gwen immediately set to tidying, straightening the furniture and putting his clothes away. She even made the bed, not commenting on Arthur chosen sleeping arrangements.

Arthur felt a little useless, however he kicked a pair of his boots under the bed as a method of doing _something_.

Gwen gave him an admonishing glance and retrieved them, putting them next to the cupboard.

Arthur sighed and dropped back onto his rug.

"Are you alright?" he asked, cursing himself for not asking sooner.

"Yes fine," Gwen replied briskly, "most of the servants are. Scared of course ... but physically fine. That's the most we can ask for really."

"What are they getting you to do?" Arthur asked.

Gwen hesitated in the folding of his jacket. "I'm acting as maidservant ... to Morgana."

Arthur made a small noise, of anger or sadness he wasn't quiet sure.

"I guess I should have expected her to be here," he said bitterly.

"She's ... fine. But, not the Morgana we used to know," Gwen said hesitantly.

"And can any of us claim to know her?" Arthur replied, running a hand through his hair in mild frustration, "it was probably all just a pack of lies."

Gwen finished tidying and came to sit in front of Arthur.

"She wasn't all bad," she said quietly.

Arthur shook his head, showing the topic was at an end. He didn't want to think about Morgana.

"Who else ... who else is here? Are there any knights?" he asked, half hopeful, half dreading Gwen's response.

"Some knights were captured, I believe Sir Leon is among them, the rest escaped ... or are dead." Gwen went pale for a moment and Arthur felt a pang of sorrow for his fallen comrades.

"You're father escaped of course, but Gaius is still here. He's safe don't worry, I think they're still determining whether he's a threat."

"I need to see him," Arthur said quickly.

"It'll be difficult," Gwen admitted, "you're guarded. I don't think they'll trust Gaius."

"Do they trust you?" Arthur asked.

"I'm just a servant," Gwen shrugged. "What could I possibly do?"

Arthur gave a despondent sigh and Gwen reached out to touch his shoulder, a firm, but gentle presence.

"Stay strong Arthur, Camelot needs you."

Arthur met her gaze, full of strength and surety and above all hope, which Arthur couldn't quite fathom.

"You too," he responded quietly.

Nodding and taking her hand back, Gwen got to her feet and left.

Arthur was alone again.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Thank you so much again! The feedback for this fic has been so good! On with the next chapter!

**Warning: This chapter involves some fairly graphic physical violence/torture.**

* * *

It was late evening by the time Emrys returned to Arthur's chambers. The day had been long and after Gwen and Morgause's departure, fairly boring. Arthur had not moved from his rug and Emrys simply stood in the doorway for a moment, contemplating him, before moving across the room and removing his cloak and boots.

"Have you not been taught to stand when your King enters your presence?" Emrys asked, draping his cloak over the bed and kicking his boots into a corner.

"Of course," Arthur replied tautly. He couldn't help but admire the contours of Emrys' back which stood out starkly under his shirt. Lean and strong limbs moved fluidly as Emrys turned back to face him.

"Then why aren't you standing?"

Arthur returned Emrys' gaze, a blaze of determination alighting within him.

"You're not my king."

Emrys smirked and turned back to the bed.

"We'll see."

Arthur glared. Anger rising that this sorcerer would dare take his father's kingdom, would dare believe he had a right to the throne, would dare think that he could break Arthur.

A moment later, Arthur had the curious sensation of his limbs acting of their own accord. Very slowly, his legs forced themselves under him and then, no matter how much he fought it, they straightened, bringing him to a standing position.

Furious and red with embarrassment, Arthur tried to move forwards, but found he couldn't, the sorcerer holding him in place.

As he turned back once more, Arthur saw the gold fade from Emrys' eyes and his limbs suddenly relaxed, allowing him to take a shaking step forward before his legs gave way under him.

"I would get you to kneel, but I think my point is made."

"I'll never stand willingly," Arthur gritted out.

Emrys seemed to fly across the room as he suddenly appeared in front of Arthur, face up close.

"You will learn to."

Arthur regarded him with cold impassiveness.

"I'm not afraid of people like you." The lie was a fairly big one and sounded childish to his ears. Arthur had always feared magic, a practice instilled in him by his father. But the sorcerer still failed to give him or do anything to him, to really be scared of.

Emrys cocked his head on one side, a smile curling his lips.

"You will be."

He moved away after that and Arthur shuffled back onto his rug, watching the sorcerer's every move.

"Gwen's a lovely girl."

The unexpected comment caught Arthur unawares.

"What ... what do you mean by that?"

"She's very loyal isn't she. Morgana said she always was. And of course, we expected her to talk to you, but not quite so loudly."

"If you ... if you hurt her."

"Oh do you care for her Pendragon? Tut tut, your father would not be happy, in love with a servant?"

"It's not like that. She's a friend. I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand what that means."

The blow came far faster than Arthur expected and he didn't even see the sorcerer move. Emrys was frozen in place even as an invisible whip came lashing across Arthur's face. His cheek, already scratched from the dagger, exploded in pain.

Emrys didn't hold back and blow after blow landed heavy and harsh on Arthur. He could feel the blood on his face even as the lashes started to move down his body, across his chest and then his stomach. He gripped hold of the rug under him to provide some grounding. He'd been through training for torture. He could master this.

But as the pain continued, Arthur found his resolve beginning to wane. He just wanted it to stop.

With a bang he was thrown backwards across the floor until the chain ran out and his foot jerked causing another rip of pain up his leg.

"Don't say I don't know friendship." Emrys sounded breathless, Arthur was struggling to remain conscious. "Not when every friend I've ever known has been taken from me because of Camelot's endless bloody crusade against my kind."

Arthur focused enough to see tears on Emrys' face. He looked down at himself and saw blood across his chest.

"You do things like this and then wonder why we hate you?" Arthur was partly incredulous. His father had said one should never try and understand a sorcerer's motives. They were all twisted and mad.

"People like you," Emrys spat, "deserve it." He turned on his heel and headed to the other end of the chamber.

Arthur rolled onto his side, allowing himself a moment of weakness whilst Emrys couldn't see.

* * *

Merlin stood by the window, conscious of Arthur still in the room behind him but he could sense the Prince too was letting his guard down. He himself, rested his hands on the window sill and closed his eyes, soothing that frantic crazed beast that had arisen.

He hadn't meant to turn into this. Hadn't meant to hurt people and enjoy it.

He'd just been so _angry_.

Pendragon was just so defiant. So bright, golden and good ...

He pushed away from the window, hastily wiping his eyes. Pendragon was nothing more than a tool. A method to conquer Uther and win the war. Maybe then, he could find some peace.

He moved back into the room and watched as Arthur hesitantly crawled back to his rug, a hand across his chest where the worst of the bleeding was.

Streaks of blood were left behind him as he moved.

There was a knock at the door, and Merlin bade the person enter, watching Arthur as the Prince attempted to prop himself up. Still determined to appear strong.

The person who entered caught them both by surprise and whilst Merlin relaxed in her presence, Arthur immediately tensed up.

"Morgana," Merlin said, walking to meet her. "How may I help?"

Morgana's eyes were on Arthur, partly withdrawn, partly clearly horror stricken by the blood. Arthur would not meet here gaze.

"Morgana?" Merlin asked after a beat.

She seemed to shake herself and focused on Merlin.

"I came to see how you were."

Merlin could see the veiled truth in her words. She'd have known Arthur was here, surely she must have come to see him. Feigning ignorance at her lie, Merlin smiled.

"I am more than well, I hope you're settling back into Camelot well."

Morgana's gaze had drifted back to Arthur again.

"Ah yes," Merlin said, as if noticing her lack of concentration for the first time. "A minor disciplinary issue."

"He always was so stubborn," Morgana said quietly.

Arthur gave a soft snort of derision.

"We should get Gaius to treat him," Morgana said. "His wounds could become infected."

Merlin shrugged, still fighting to hold onto the ideal of Arthur being nothing more than any other prisoner.

"Why should it matter?"

Morgana eventually turned her gaze back to him and here he saw something more of the old Morgana.

"You don't know what Arthur gets like when he's sick," she replied, a playful smirk on her lips. "He was quite terrible as a child."

Merlin laughed, from what he knew of the Prince, he could easily imagine it.

Arthur simply glared.

"Send for Gaius then, and get a maid to clean the floors."

"Of course, Merlin."

Merlin made to shush her but it was too late. He saw Arthur's head shoot up and his eyes narrow.

Morgana, realising her mistake, blinked.

"Of course, Lord Emrys," she amended, and hurried from the room.

"_Mer_lin," came the Prince's voice. "What kind of a name is that?"

Merlin swallowed hard. "Just a memory," he responded quietly.

He left before he could say anything else, a deep seated pain rising up in him. He blinked away tears and strode of down the corridor.

Nothing more than a tool. A prisoner. He didn't matter. Soon, all this would be over.

He had to keep believing that.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Apologies I missed a week. I had to finish my ACBB fic and life got the better of me! Thanks again for the all the reviews and favourites. You guys are fabulous! :)

* * *

"Arthur, Arthur! Can you hear me?"

Arthur awoke, someone slapping his face.

As the figure in front of him solidified, Arthur blinked, then jumped, pain wracking his body.

"I was beginning to worry your wouldn't wake," Gaius said, reaching for his medicine bag.

"Gaius ..." Arthur slurred. "What 'appened?"

"You must have passed out from blood loss. You took a beating Arthur."

"You think I don't know?" Arthur grumbled, mustering the strength to look down. His shirt was a mess, ripped and bloodied. He didn't really want to see the extent of the damage below the thin cloth.

"Can you heal me?" he asked.

"Of course," Gaius responded, taking out cloths and a flask of some sort of ointment. He reached for Arthur, pulling up his shirt and wincing.

"You never flinch," Arthur said, too dazed to be properly worried by the fact. "I've come to you with all kinds of injuries and you never flinch."

"This is bad," Gaius murmured in response. He dragged a bucket of water closer and began dabbing at Arthur's wounds. Arthur hissed in pain, hands fisting into the rug.

"You can't provoke them, Arthur," Gaius reprimanded.

"What does it matter? It's not like they're one day going to let me go. It's not like I'll ever defeat them. I'll die more I change my allegiance Gaius, why make this imprisonment last?"

Gaius jabbed him extra hard with the cloth. "That is not what you truly think and you know it."

Arthur had to admit, Gaius was right. The determination was still there, he was still prepared to fight but in the midst of his pain, his strength and resolves was wavering.

"They're sorcerers, how am I meant to defeat them Gaius?"

"Every enemy has a weakness," Gaius stated.

"And I'm supposed to find it how?"

"Watch, and wait."

They turned to silence, Gaius gently cleaning each of the lash marks then picking up the ointment to wipe over the deeper cuts. Arthur closed his eyes, distancing himself from the pain and trying to think of some sort of plan. A frown creased his forehead as he thought about something Guinevere had said earlier.

"Gwen said they were still working out if they can trust you ... why would they trust you?" Gaius was just finishing but his hands stilled.

"I have magic," he said hesitantly. "But have not used it in some time. Your father knows about my powers and knows I would never use them except to help this kingdom."

Arthur regarded Gaius, wondering why he hadn't worked this out before. It seemed, somewhat obvious. Gaius, with all his potions and remedies. He was famous for his talents, quite _magical_, people said.

Arthur snorted to himself.

"I would have hoped for a more mature response, sire," Gaius said, with the air of speaking to a small child. He gave Arthur a grim smile however. He knew Arthur trusted him and knew he could trust Arthur.

"You need to help me escape," Arthur said quietly, lowering his voice because he knew Emrys, Merlin, whatever his name was, had overhead his conversation with Gwen and he couldn't risk being eaves-dropped on again.

"It will be difficult," Gaius replied, an eyebrow raised.

"I need to get to my father Gaius, help him. Is there anything, Anything you can think of that would help me?"

Gaius was quiet for a moment, clearly thinking about something.

"There may be something," he said, sounding uncertain.

"What? Gaius you have to tell me!" Arthur made the urgency plain in his voice. Hope sparked inside him because if he could escape, or if he could take down one of the sorcerers, then they would be one step closer to taking the kingdom back.

Gaius hesitated. "I will have to do some research, I can't promise anything."

"_Gaius_," Arthur practically growled.

"No, Arthur, I have to be certain. Please, believe me, I will do everything to get you out of here, just give me time."

Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Ok," he conceded eventually.

Gaius finished his ministrations and helped Arthur to stand whilst he replace the rug Arthur had been resting on, the old on stained with blood. Then he found a new shirt and gently helped Arthur change into it. As Arthur dropped back to the floor he noticed his stomach growling in protest.

"You don't have any food do you?" it was almost two days since he'd last eaten and he guessed his current state wasn't helped by his lack of food.

Smiling, Gaius brought some bread and cheese from his medicine bag.

"I guessed they might not have been feeding you," he said. Arthur grabbed it and began wolfing it down, only to be stopped by Gaius who forced him to eat it slower.

Gaius then handed him a flask of water which Arthur gulped down gratefully. He then helped Arthur to his feet once more and took him to the chamber pot to relieve himself.

"If I have one piece of advice," Gaius said, gently lowering Arthur back to the rug. "Play their game. Let them think they've won." Arthur nodded, he'd come to the same conclusion himself.

"Which means no more provoking them," Gaius added, his eyebrow raised once again.

Arthur nodded, then, as Gaius got to his feet, he reached out to stop the older man.

"I'm glad you're here with me," he said sincerely. "And ... the magic, it doesn't matter. I know you're not like them."

Gaius nodded his appreciation.

"You'll be a great king one day Arthur," he said with a solemn nod.

The door opening made them jump apart and Gaius hastily stepped away, pulling his bag over his shoulder.

"Sire," Gaius inclined his head toward whoever had entered and peering round him, Arthur saw it was Emrys.

"Gaius," Emrys responded shortly.

"I've tended to the Prin - to Arthur. But I should return to my duties," Gaius said, heading for the door.

"Thank you, Gaius." Emrys said, a small nod of his head towards the older man.

Gaius met Emrys' eyes for a brief moment, then, with a bow, left the room.

Emrys turned his gaze on Arthur, a smirk playing round his mouth.

"Feeling comfortable?" he asked.

Biting back the retort he wanted to give, Arthur simply lowered his gaze. _Play the game_.

"As good as I could be, considering the circumstances," he responded quietly, waiting for Emrys' reaction.

"Good," Emrys responded, smiling, then heading for the bed.

As he climbed below the covers, Arthur relaxed back against the wall, closing his eyes and letting out a short breath.

He still had the breakfast knife, what ever use that may become, and for now, he just had to play the game.

Watch, wait ... _survive_.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you again! Sorry it's a day late, I lost track of time! :) Anyway ... onwards :)**

* * *

Arthur awoke early, his back stiff from sleeping on the hard stone floors a second night in a row. His stomach growled in hunger and he was thirsty so, getting up from where he had been lying, he crossed quietly to the table where a water jug and goblet were standing. He spared a glance over his shoulder to see that Emrys was buried under the covers and Arthur paused for a moment, watching the steady rise and fall of the blanket in time with Emrys' breathing.

Another pang of hunger shot through him and he jumped back into the moment, softly pouring himself a drink and gulping it down. The water cooled his dry throat and once the goblet was empty, he refilled it, crossing to the window as he drank, slower now.

Dawn was beginning to appear over the horizon and Arthur could see trails of smoke rising from houses in the lower town. Arthur leaned against the window frame, wary of his still healing wounds and watched as the sun began to rise.

Dawn was a wonderful time of day, he reflected. Despite always bemoaning about getting out of bed in the morning, there was something quite captivating about this moment. The quiet hush that fell over the city, pink rays of the sun creeping over the hills in the distance.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, watching as the sky turned from grey, to pink, to orange and then to blue.

"It is a gorgeous thing, isn't it?"

Arthur jumped, spinning where he was stood to find Emrys stood, not far away, arms casually folded across his chest and his gaze not on Arthur, but on the view beyond the window. Arthur caught himself staring, eyes traveling across Emrys' soft white shirt, lean muscles and strong collar bones underneath.

If Emrys noticed, he made no comment and instead came to stand beside Arthur, a hand on the wall another on his hip.

Spoiling the moment, Arthur's stomach gave another growl.

Emrys looked at Arthur, an amused smirk, that wasn't unkind, curling his lip. He went to the table, pulling out a chair and gesturing for Arthur to come over.

"Sit, I'll have a maid bring up some breakfast."

Eying Emrys with distrust, Arthur came and sat, suspicious of the too genuine smile on Emrys face. The chain which pulled around his ankle kept him in reality as Emrys also sat.

"How are the servant's going to know we wanting food?" Arthur asked, trying not to shift uneasily under Emrys' gaze.

"I've sent a message," he replied, eyes twinkling with hidden laughter.

Arthur opened his mouth, brow creased in confusion, then closed it again. Magic, of course.

Not long after, a servant arrived, laden with trays of food. Emrys was all thanks, graciously complimenting the servant's work and sending his thanks to the kitchen. The serving boy looked like he couldn't get out of the room fast enough.

Emrys loaded a plate with food, sausages, tomatoes, cheese and bread, for Arthur and passed it over to him.

Arthur took it, biting his lip because Emrys was being _nice_ and he couldn't understand it.

"Eat," Emrys said.

The food was good and Arthur had to force himself not to eat too fast, Gaius' food from the previous day having done nothing much to quell his hunger.

He stopped at one point, aware of Emrys' eyes on him, then returned to eating.

"So, you're actually called Merlin," Arthur said eventually, hoping to somehow break Emrys' stare. He'd thought about the name and somehow couldn't match _Merlin_ to the person he saw in front of him, eyes shadowed, emanating power. It didn't seem to fit. Emrys was the name of his enemy. Merlin sounded too much like a friend.

"Yes," Emrys replied, reaching for a goblet of wine. "That was my name."

Taking note of his use of past tense, Arthur continued to eat.

"So you weren't always ..." he gestured vaguely with a hand, "_Emrys._"

"No."

Emrys was still smiling and it unnerved Arthur, not simply because continual smiling in itself was creepy, but also because he could practically trick himself into believing it was genuine.

_He's playing with your head, Arthur_.

Finishing his food, Arthur pushed the plate away, suddenly feeling slightly sick. It was hard, he realised, to hate someone who was nice to you.

All he had to do however, was close his eyes and he could see the wild fury burning in Emrys' eyes from the previous day, the burning sting of the whip across his skin.

"I'm afraid it's going to be another dull day for you," Emrys said, cleaning the last bits of pork from his plate, "I'm tied up with matters of court."

"I'll live," Arthur replied dryly.

"And then tomorrow we've had word that Cenred's coming to pay his respects to the new king. Morgause has requested you attend the meeting."

Arthur's gut clenched and he swallowed hard, already imagining Cenred's mocking and boasting. Long had he been Camelot's enemy and now he would come to stand in front of Arthur who had been helpless to watch her fall.

"You don't like Cenred?" Emrys asked.

"Who does?"

Emrys shrugged. "He's tolerable I suppose."

"How long have you known him?" Arthur asked, making sure to keep his tone level as he tried to glean a glimpse into Emrys' past.

"I used to live in Cenred's kingdom," Emrys responded, his tone neutral and his eyes, somewhat withdrawn. The smile was gone from his face.

"When did you leave?"

"I was sixteen, Morgause found me, asked me to join her cause."

"Did you want to?"

Emrys opened his mouth then froze, a smile creeping across his face once more.

"Oh very good, young Prince," he said, a small laugh bubbling out. "_Very good._ Was that your plan then? Find out my deepest darkest secrets and then use them against me?"

Emrys was laughing and Arthur resisted the urge to back away.

Emrys sighed. "You do know you'll never escape?" he asked, a seriousness entering his tone that had chills running up and down Arthur's spine. "It would be easier, to give in now, save us, save you, a lot of pain."

It was Arthur's turn to smile. "Naah, I think I keep my loyalty," he responded lightly.

Emrys shrugged and got up from his seat.

"Your loss."

Arthur watched silently as Emrys left, then got up from his seat, returning to the window to watch the courtyard below, scowling as he watched some of the enemy soldier's harassing a young girl.

It was only after a long time had passed, and the sun had risen high in the sky, that Arthur realised Emrys had never actually answered his question.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thank you again for the feedback! **

* * *

Merlin tore another grape from the bunch and popped it into his mouth, biting down and letting the sweet wetness explode in his mouth. He stood at the window, looking down into the courtyard below where Cenred was greeting Morgause, the rest of his company behind him.

His conversation with Arthur the previous day had left him shaken. He'd grown close, dangerously close to giving things away and that was one thing he couldn't do. So much of his past he'd kept hidden, from the people around him, from Morgause, even from himself. The past was ... the past. This was the life he led now, and there was no going back.

The splashing of water behind him drew his attention and he turned to see Arthur washing his hair in the basin a maid had brought up. He'd taken off his shirt and the bare expanse of skin left Merlin momentarily breathless with awe. Muscles rippled under his skin, tensing and relaxing in a pattern as he raised the water to his hair and then let his arms drop again. Merlin was captivated.

The door opened and Arthur paused in his washing, his eyes narrowing as Morgana entered.

"Cenred's here," she said, directing her words to Merlin after an almost frightened glance in Arthur's direction. "We're gathering in the throne room."

"We'll be there shortly," Merlin replied with a smile. Morgana's tense expression relaxed almost marginally and she smiled at Merlin before she left. Merlin was glad he could still comfort her, like he had before. They'd been through a lot together.

Arthur had drawn on a clean shirt by the time Merlin looked back and he stood somewhat awkwardly, as if waiting for Merlin's command.

"Let's go then," Merlin said airily.

"I can't," Arthur said, jerking the chain round his ankle irritably.

Holding back a smile at how much of a spoiled child, not getting his way Arthur looked in that moment, Merlin clapped his hands, eyes glowing gold at the same time.

The cuff round his ankle sprang to Arthur's left wrist and the other end, which had been bound to the bed, jumped to his right. With trepidation, Arthur tested the chain only to give a sigh when it did not give.

"I've taken off the burning enchantment," Merlin said, gracing Arthur with another smile. "But we don't want Cenred thinking we're letting you be too comfortable." he added, as Arthur yanked on the chain again.

Arthur gave him a tight, sarcastic smile in response and Merlin let a small laugh escape him. He just looked so gorgeous when he was defiant.

"Right," he said, pulling himself from a train of thought it would be better _not_ to go down. "Let's go."

* * *

The throne room was quiet as Arthur and Emrys entered, Emrys a step in front and Arthur behind, determinedly not looking at anyone in particular. He realised he must look somewhat too defiant and so lowered his gaze to the floor, a picture of humility. A servant in his master's steps.

Every part of him screamed that this wasn't right, that these people had destroyed his kingdom, taken his father's throne. They were sorcerers, murderers ...

He calmed his breathing. _Play the game, Arthur_.

The throne stood empty, Morgause on one side and Morgana on the other. Gwen stood near to Morgana, her gaze fearful and worried but when her and Arthur's eyes met, she gave him a small nod. Arthur dropped his gaze again.

Gaius stood away the left of the throne and Arthur could see him avoiding his gaze. A guard stood at his side and Arthur's gut twisted, thinking with dread what they might have been doing to the old man. Still, Gaius looked well enough. Perhaps he too was playing the game.

Then there was Cenred, stood down from the throne, idly slouched and inspecting his nails. His men stood around him and Arthur felt more than one pair of greedy eyes settle on him. He resisted the urge to shiver.

As Emrys came to Cenred's side, he stopped and extended a hand. Cenred took it, but his gaze wasn't on Emrys, it had already moved to Arthur.

"Such a pleasure, to come to this city and pay respects, my lord," Cenred said, his voice slick and oily.

Arthur kept his gaze firmly on the floor. _Don't rise, don't rise_.

"A pleasure to have you," Emrys responded, his voice smooth and even.

"I was glad to hear of your conquest, sire," Cenred said, a smirk flickering across his face. "Too long the Pendragons have taken what they want from this land. Too long have they reigned."

_Don't listen to him, Arthur_.

"Yes, I'm glad we are of the same mind on that." Arthur could feel both Cenred and Emrys' gaze on him now. In fact, he'd guess pretty much the whole hall was looking at him, waiting for him to lash out.

"I see you've taken an interest in the Prince," Cenred said, stepping away from Emrys and toward Arthur. "And I must say, it's impressive what you've done with him, the Arthur I know would never be so ... _compliant_."

Arthur raised his gaze marginally, enough to throw Cenred a glare which passed over exactly what he thought. Cenred smirked.

"I am skilled in many things my lord Cenred," Merlin said, a smile on his face. "Bending the will of an arrogant Prince is no great feat."

"What say you Arthur?" Morgause's voice rang out. "Would you say you are broken yet? Ready to kneel?" Her voice was mocking and Arthur heard others laugh.

He raised his head, his expression impassive. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gaius shaking his head. A warning. _Play the game._

"I'll kneel to a true king," Arthur replied guardedly.

There was a brief silence, then Emrys snorted.

"I don't know which is more insulting. That he doesn't see me as a true king or that he does see Uther as one."

"My father-" Arthur began, rising to the jibe as Emrys had clearly known he would. Cenred, however, cut him off.

"He needs to be defeated," Cenred said confidently.

"It may have passed your notice, but he already has been," Emrys responded tightly, gesturing to Arthur's chains.

"By magic, yes. But to truly break him, truly break his pride, he needs to be defeated by a man."

Emrys' gaze fell on Arthur, considering.

"Let it happen," Morgause said, stepping down from next to the throne. "You'll fight him, won't you Cenred?"

Cenred's jaw tightened, but then he simply unstrapped his gauntlet from his wrist and threw it down at Arthur's feet.

"To the death," he growled.

Emrys scowled disapprovingly but Arthur had already stooped and picked up the gauntlet.

"It'll be a pleasure," he responded in a growl. In all truth, he was looking forward to it. He could wield a sword, it was what he had been trained to do all his life. And, as Cenred had said, he was just a man, he didn't have magic. He could be defeated.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **So sorry, I had exams, then no wifi, and I'm also late this week! Anyway, back now and there's a fight to be had!

**Warning:** Character death in this chapter and some violence.

The sun and fresh air disoriented Arthur as he stepped outside for his first time in days. Guards surrounded him as he was marched out of the citadel, through the town and down to the arena, set up just beyond the walls of the city.

Faces appeared in the windows, watching their Prince walk past. People in the streets stopped to look, eyes wide and sometimes pitying, sometimes fearful. Emrys walked at the head of the group, a black cloak sweeping out behind him, sending the peasants shrinking as he passed.

Arthur felt sick. The people that had once been so happy, now hid in their houses. The streets, once bustling and crowded with noise were empty. He tried to hold his head high, determined to show that he was still fighting, but the chains round his wrists clinked and chafed at his skin, a reminded that he was defeated. Or at least, that was how his enemies wanted him to be.

The arena was the same one they had always used for tournaments and jousting matches, but the bright Pendragon banners had been stripped leaving the space bare and drab. A few figures were huddled in the stands, looking scared and Arthur could see guards all around the edge of the arena. In the royal box, his father's seat was empty, presumably left for Merlin but on one side was Morgana and on the other side Morgause. Cenred stood in the center of the arena, forgoing armour, for which Arthur was relieved as none had been offered to him. Cenred's blade glinted in the sunlight, but even the sight of it gave Arthur strength. This was a man who fought with steel, not sorcery. Cenred was just a man. And men could be defeated.

Emrys stopped, sending Arthur's guards away with a flick of his hand then relieving Arthur of his chains. A servant was sent stumbling forward, bearing Arthur's sword and as Arthur took it, he felt renewed. This was what he knew, _this_ was his strength.

He twisted the sword about, aiming a few practice thrusts at an invisible opponent, trying to work out the stiffness that came from days of not training and still still in a room with nothing to do. Emrys followed the blade with his gaze and seemed impressed. He then stepped close to Arthur.

"Try not to die too quickly, it'd spoil all the fun," he said with a tight smirk.

"Anything for you, _Sire_," Arthur replied, throwing as much condescension into the last word as possibly.

Emrys narrowed his eyes but did not respond and turned away, heading for his seat in the stand.

Arthur moved to stand level with Cenred in the center of the field, meeting Cenred's smirk with a tight smile of his own.

"The fight is to the death," Emrys' voice rang out to them, "until then, no victor shall be crowned."

There was a silence, then - "Begin."

Cenred's blade came swinging towards him, fast and furious. Arthur dodged the blow easily, jabbing back at Cenred's exposed side. Cenred met the blow with a clang of steel on steel and knocked Arthur's sword aside. Regaining his footing, Arthur took a step back, Cenred doing the same and they began to circle, each watching their opponent for the first move.

Predictably, it was Cenred and as Arthur countered Cenred's blow, then stepped forwards on the attack, he began to see a pattern in Cenred's moves. Attack first with big, powerful blows, then block, before attacking again, trying to draw Arthur closer.

Cenred's moves had no precision, no finesse and all it took was for Arthur to change up his response a little -

His attack caught Cenred unawares and Cenred hissed in pain as Arthur's sword sliced across his arm. Cenred looked to the royal box and Arthur spared a glance there also.

Morgana looked tense, her face pale. Emrys' face was unreadable, his eyes shadowed by the canopy. Morgause looked almost bored.

"Worried Cenred?" Arthur asked, slicing towards Cenred's leg as the man looked back to Arthur. Cenred only just managed to parry the blow.

"You're no match for me," he sneered in response, but Arthur smirked as Cenred backed up.

"This? This is only training! Would you like some real fighting Cenred?"

Arthur lunged again, his attacks precise and thought out, Cenred countering his moves as Arthur anticipated, so that when Arthur spun around, Cenred's left side, with his already injured arm, was unprotected and Arthur's blow landed right on his leg.

Cenred staggered, eyes wild for a minute as he lunged crazily at Arthur. Arthur dodged and got ready to land the final blow when everything changed.

He feet were knocked out from under him. To someone watching it might have looked like he slipped but Arthur _never_ slipped.

As his gaze fell upon the royal box he saw Morguase smirking.

Cenred had recovered and brought his blade down on Arthur, Arthur raising his sword to parry it feebly. He scrambled to his feet before Cenred could land another blow, but when he did, his sword slipped and the force of Cenred's blow sent it spinning from his hand.

Cenred landed a punch on Arthur's jaw, knocking him to the ground. In a panic, Arthur looked for his sword. It was _just_ too far away.

He rolled to avoid Cenred's death blow and when he looked again, he blinked, because surely his blade hadn't been that close before?

Without wasting time thinking about it, he grabbed at his sword and brought it up, just as Cenred lunged forward once more.

Cenred gasped and collapsed upon the blade, his fingers feebly twitching at the blade embedded in his heart.

He dropped to the ground and Arthur scrambled to the side to avoid him.

Getting to his feet, he dragged his sword from Cenred's chest and then turned to look at the stands.

Morgause was on her feet, but she wasn't looking at Arthur but at Emrys. Emrys was still seated and Arthur thought he saw a ghost of a smile on the man's face. Morgana, still pale, gave Arthur one brief nod, and Arthur felt his heart clench a little.

Maybe she did still care ...

The guards moved forward, taking Arthur's sword from him. He was still dazed, not quite realising his victory.

Then, Emrys was there, refastening Arthur's chains with a wave of his hand.

"Take him to Gauis to check for injuries, then back to my chambers," he instructed the guards.

Arthur looked him in the eye, searching for something, he wasn't sure what.

All Emrys did was nod briefly and watch as the guards took Arthur away.


	9. Chapter 9

Arthur's euphoria at his win was short lived. Instead, a feeling of dread crawled into his stomach. He'd openly defied Morgause and Emrys, he'd shown them plain as day that he was still fighting. But as the thought entered his head that he could have let Cenred beat him, bile rose in his throat. No. Cenred was evil, he'd been an enemy of Camelot for years. Arthur had been right to defeat him.

He still felt cold, however, thinking briefly of how Morgause had taken him down, how close Cenred had come to injuring, or perhaps even killing him. He didn't know if Morgause and Emrys would have let Cenred finish it, he thought they'd had some plan for him. It might be the only thing keeping him alive.

The guards marched him through the castle and he balked at how cold and dark it was. Black tapestries had replaced the bright Pendragon red and soldiers were _everywhere_, servants scurrying about their work, eyes on the ground. No one was smiling any more. However, as Arthur passed, a found certain eyes met his and his heart unclenched a little as he saw small smiles and nods of encouragement. Word must have spread fast about his victory and he felt a strange sense of pride, in this act he had given the people hope.

When they reached Gaius' chambers, Arthur breathed a sigh of relief at how normal they looked. The space was still cluttered and sunlight seemed to shine in here where it hadn't in the rest of the castle. Gaius was there and Arthur grimaced at his slow movements.

"The king requires you check for injuries," one of Arthur's soldiers spoke out and Gaius moved from his bench. Arthur noticed Gaius wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Would you leave us?" Gaius asked, "I require peace and privacy for practicing my medicine."

The soldier's beside Arthur shifted.

"We cannot leave the prisoner."

"He is chained and I'm sure you'll be waiting just outside the door. I am not defenseless."

"We have been ordered -"

"To let me treat the prisoner." A hint of steel entered Gaius' voice and Arthur saw his eyebrow go up. "Which I cannot do if I am being watched."

The guards practically quailed and Arthur smirked before Gaius' stare was turned on him and he bit back his laugh.

With grumbles and complaints, the guards left, promising to be just outside the door.

As soon as they were gone, Gaius came close, keeping his voice low as he spoke.

"I'm sorry I can't seem more personable, they'll grow suspicious."

"It's fine Gaius. Honestly."

"Keep your voice down. Anyway, about when we last spoke. There may be something I have found."

"What, what is it?" With hope leaping in his heart, Arthur let Gaius lead him to a stool where he proceeded to lift Arthur's shirt, prodding and poking.

Gaius' silence made Arthur irate.

"Your lashes have healed well," Gaius commented and Arthur was sidetracked for a moment, realising he hadn't actually been thinking about his whipping and the wounds. In fact he had healed incredibly well. Almost magically ...

"Gaius, did you use magic to heal me?"

Gaius' hand stilled for a moment but then he simply carried on. "You shouldn't bite the hand that feeds you," he said quietly.

"You used magic on the Crown Prince of Camelot, that hand is more likely to be burned on the pyre than be bitten," Arthur snapped.

"I've avoided the flames for many years, Arthur," Gaius replied grimly.

Arthur sighed, burying his hand in his hands. "Sorry. It's just ... hard."

"And you must keep going." Gaius said firmly.

"You said you had something with might help?"

Gaius drew up another stool and sat next to Arthur. "I've seen brief mentions of it before, but it was only once I was really looking ... There's a potion that can temporarily bind a sorcerer's magic."

Arthur's mouth fell open and he was starting to his feet before Gaius put a firm hand on his arm. Dropping back onto the stool, Arthur looked at Gaius incredulously. If such a potion existed, why were they not already making it?

"I know you want to rush into this, but I'm asking for patience. The potion is complicated, I haven't even heard of most of the ingredients."

Arthur swallowed back his disappointment. "But you can make it? It will work?"

Gaius sighed. "Hopefully."

Arthur sat back, trying not to let his frustration show. Focusing on what was good, he reasoned they still had a chance.

The guards arrived shortly after and escorted Arthur back through the castle to his chambers. When he reached them, they were dark and empty. He wondered briefly where Emrys was before the guards left him.

Halfheartedly testing his chains once more, he dropped down into a chair, thinking about everything Gaius had said. He had hope now, and was determined to hold onto it.

* * *

Morgause was angry.

Not that this was anything new for Merlin. Over the years he'd seen the priestess burn people to the ground with just a look - but this was one of the few times she was angry at him.

"How dare you go against me!?"

"We had a plan, Cenred was about to destroy that." Merlin tried to keep his voice steady but his emotions threatened to get the better of him. Unwittingly, he let his magic spark at his fingers, determined to show Morgause he wasn't a child any more. "We planned that we would break Arthur and then use him against Uther. Killing him doesn't fit with that plan. And anyway, Cenred's idea was rendered useless the moment you used magic against Arthur."

"I would be disgusted with myself if I had done what you did." Morgause was practically spitting. "Our plan is to break him, not save him."

Morgana, in the corner, looked concerned but when she met Merlin's gaze he gave her a stiff nod, showing he was alright.

"Oh yes, and killing him is going to be so effective." Merlin couldn't help the sarcasm that laced his tone.

"Oh Merlin," Morgause's voice softened, her expression mocking, "is it possible you've begun to care for our young Prince?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Merlin snapped.

"It would be dangerous," Morgause continued, speaking very quietly, but Merlin didn't miss the hint of a threat. "If you were to lose yourself to your emotions."

Merlin stiffened. "I have only ever been loyal to our cause Morgause."

Morgause gave a tight smile. "Well, it wouldn't hurt to make sure."

An invisible force pushed Merlin to his knees. He didn't fight it, he knew it was a test. Instead he maintained eye contact with Morgause, glaring as she stepped nearer. As she stopped in front of him, she placed her fingers of his temples. Merlin flinched at her touch, causing her to smile wider.

"A little reminder, I think, of where your loyalties lie."

Then she entered his mind, and Merlin started screaming.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** I am so late, I can only offer masses of apologies, I just haven't got round to writing this! Anyway, here it is!

**Warning:** This chapter contains some graphic magical violence/torture.

-

Arthur had fallen asleep as he waited for Emrys to return. His mind kept turning over everything that had happened, everything he had done and everything they had done but he'd eventually drifted off, still not sure why Morgause had been angry at Emrys of all people when he'd managed to kill Cenred.

When he woke, it was dark, the fire not lit and the curtains not drawn, the room only lit by the moonlight which shone through the windows.

Someone was crying.

Arthur got up off his makeshift bed and padded across the room. The crying was coming from behind the bed, gut-wrenching sobs that sounded almost child-like. Arthur's heart clenched at the sound.

As he rounded the end of the bed, however, he bit back a gasp, eyes going wide as he saw the figure there.

It was Emrys. Curled against the bed, he'd got rid of his cloak and was only wearing a thin shirt over his trousers. His head was resting on his knees and his pale hands were grasping his hair whilst his whole body shook with sobs. Arthur bit his lip, wondering at the sight before him because Emrys was his enemy, Emrys was one of the most dangerous sorcerers Arthur knew and yet here, sat in a puddle of moonlight, crying into his hands, he looked little more than a small frightened child.

Arthur was desperate to reach out to him, to hold, to console, but he held himself back.

Emrys was his enemy. Arthur remembered all to well the sting of the magical whip and it flayed his skin, perhaps he should take this moment of defenselessness and use it against Emrys, stick a knife in his back and make his escape. The thought brought bile to Arthur's throat.

Maybe he should just return to his bed, lie down, go back to sleep and pretend this had never happened.

Emrys was a sorcerer. Emrys was evil.

Yet in this moment, Arthur didn't see him as Emrys. He saw him as Merlin.

_Cut it out, Arthur, you don't even know who _Merlin_ is_ ...

He stood there, locked in indecision and must have waited a second too long as Emrys' head suddenly shot up and he spun round, throwing out a hand, his eyes blazing gold.

Arthur was thrown backwards, slammed against the wall, his head hitting stone and his shoulder jarring painfully against the cupboard next to him. The lash marks on his back sear momentarily before the gold in Emrys' eyes faded and Arthur crumpled to the floor.

"What were you doing?" Emrys' voice was cold and threatening.

"You were ... " Arthur fought to speak, still trying to get his breath back and clenching his teeth at the pain. "You were crying."

"And?"

Arthur bit his lip, refraining from saying anything because he wasn't sure what might come out of his mouth.

"Go back to bed."

It was an order and, if Arthur thought about it, the first Emrys had given.

He slowly got to his feet, wincing in pain and it only took a few steps before he crumpled again, seeing stars and the back of his head throbbing dangerously.

Emrys laughed. "So weak."

Arthur growled through gritted teeth. "I'm not weak," he snapped. "You're the weak one. Hiding behind your magic, crying at night, it's pathetic." He didn't know where the words were coming from but he was just so _angry_. Angry at being beaten and battered, angry at going against Cenred and humiliated because those with magic thought they knew better, angry at having his kingdom taken from him and so very _afraid_ that he may never get it back again. Arthur knew it as well as anyone, when he was afraid, he hid it with anger.

"What did you say?" Emrys' voice was deadly.

"You're pathetic, you're weak, you hide behind your magic, you're nothing." Arthur knew he had pushed too far, _way_ too far.

He was picked up by magic and thrown the length of the room, crashing into the table and biting his tongue to keep back his yell of pain. Blood filled his mouth as Emrys swept across the room.

"How _dare_ you say such things!"

Arthur had to force himself to stand his ground, all too desperate to back away as the sheer ferocity of Emrys' gaze.

"How could you even know? You who persecute my kind. You with your laws that _make_ me nothing. You who've known none of the horrors I have seen, who have never had friends or family taken away from you and burned because of what they were born to be. I am the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth and you, Arthur Pendragon, will fear me!"

Great burning waves of pain rolled up Arthur's body and this time he couldn't hold back the scream as he writhed on the floor. Never mind training, never mind how many wars or battles he'd fought in, nothing compared to this pain.

And it went on. Emrys never let up and Arthur's screams kept tearing themselves from his throat. He wondered briefly, how easy it would be to just give up.

"Stop it! Just stop it!" He barely heard the person shouting but Emrys must have heard because the torture ended. Arthur collapsed back on the floor, shaking with the after effects. He managed to register that it was Morgana in the room, it was Morgana who had shouted.

Emrys had turned to her and she was looking at him, confusion and sorrow in her eyes.

"This isn't you, Merlin," she said quietly. Arthur didn't think he was meant to hear.

Emrys' shoulders slumped and he closed his eyes.

"Go to one of the other chambers. I'll have guards posted." Morgana's softly commanding voice seemed to get through and Emrys left, not looking back at Arthur.

Morgana came to Arthur side and, against his protests, helped him to the bed. He fell onto the mattress like he'd never felt one before and took a moment to pleasure in being back in his own bed.

That was before the pain returned.

Morgana gave him one quick, piercing look, assessing him for something Arthur couldn't fathom and then left without saying a word.

Arthur closed his eyes, furiously brushing away the tears that had settled on his eyelashes.

Whoever Emrys was, whoever _Merlin_ was, Arthur didn't fear him. He pitied him.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Thanks for sticking with me so far and for all the reviews and favourites, they mean the world!

As soon as Merlin reached one of the guest chambers, he locked himself inside and leaned back against the door. Closing his eyes, he let out a shaking breath and waited for the visions to subside. They were still plaguing him, even though Morgause's torture had been hours ago and he couldn't get the images out of his head.

Every bad thing that had happened to him played out, over and over, before his eyes.

_Finding out his mother had died._

_Catching Will as he fell, a crossbow bolt through his chest._

_The day he'd gone out by himself and Cenred's men had ambushed him, wanting to take revenge on the boy who had so easily risen through the ranks of Cenred's army._

_The months he'd spent in captivity, his magic bound by chains and Morgause hadn't come. _You have to learn to protect yourself, Emrys. _She'd said it was a punishment for being foolish enough to get caught._

_The moment he'd been on the pyre and he'd seized up in fright, too terrified to use his magic. Morgause had only just answered his pleas for help in time._

He bent over and let out a scream. Somewhere in the room, a vase exploded. A shriek of surprise followed and Merlin jerked his head up, not realising he hadn't been alone.

From around a corner, Gwen appeared, stopping short as she spotted Merlin.

He'd never actually spoken to Gwen, only knew who she was because of her connection to Arthur. She seemed sweet, honest. She reminded him of her mother.

"Sire! My lord, I'm so sorry, I didn't realise anyone was in here. I was just changing the sheets. Although, you probably didn't need to know that. I'll ... I'll just be going now my lord."

Merlin couldn't help the smile at her stumbling response and it eased the ache in his chest.

"It's alright," he broke through her ramblings. "I didn't mean to surprise you. I didn't know you were in here either." _Otherwise I wouldn't have come in here. Otherwise I wouldn't have let you see me breakdown._

"You can go now, Guinevere."

He unlocked the door with a wave of his and and she hurried to it, clutching her basket of dirty sheet too her and seeming to shield herself with it as she walked past him.

_She's afraid of me_.

It was a bitter thought.

Gwen stopped, however, in the doorway, chewing her lower lip as if making a decision.

"Is there something you wanted to say, Guinevere?"

"I ... I just wanted to ask if you were alright, my lord? You were screaming."

Merlin felt his stomach roll and forced a lid down on his emotions.

"I was merely upset by something, nothing to worry about."

She opened her mouth, then seemed to think better of it. Merlin breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure how he would have responded, or if he would just have broken down and confessed everything.

What was he thinking? She was a serving girl in his conquered kingdom. He didn't need to answer her questions. Didn't need her sympathy. Didn't need her care or Arthur's or any one else' for that matter.

"I know what you did, yesterday," she blurted out. "You saved, Arthur."

Merlin blinked.

"I'm sorry for speaking out of place sire, but I think you should know - Arthur's a good man. Uther may be a tyrant, but Arthur isn't like him. And you saved him. I thought someone should thank you for that."

A thousand responses came to Merlin's tongue at that. _I didn't save him. It's all part of the plan. He's more use to me dead than alive. I don't need your thanks. _

Lies, lies, all of them and none of his words made it past his lips.

"You should go now, Guinevere," he forced out, resisting the urge to simply slam the door in her face. _I thought someone should thank you for that._

"As you wish sire."

She was gone, off down the corridor, and Merlin closed the door once more, resting his forehead against the wood.

He was a mess.

* * *

Arthur woke with a gasp, his chest seizing up in pain and his fists clenching on the covers. It was past dawn, cool sunshine bathing the courtyard beyond the window and Arthur lay in the bed for a moment, his head spinning a little from pain, before he realised he was in _his_ bed. His own bed. Sighing, he leaned back on the pillows, debating getting up before his mind reasonably pointed out that that was impossible in his current state.

He'd been a fool. A fool to say those things to Emrys. He knew Emrys was more powerful than he was, knew that with a snap of his fingers Emrys could end his life. And yet ... he hadn't ... _yet_.

Perhaps that was all part of their plan. Lull him into a false sense of security. Make him believe they were close to breaking, because, after the previous night where he'd seen Emrys crying, he'd say the man was already broken.

Why couldn't his enemies be easy to understand?

Mogause seemed pretty obvious in her intent, but why was she so comfortable with sitting back and letting Emrys take the throne? And Emrys he just couldn't fathom out. One moment he was cold as stone, the next, weeping on Arthur's floor and then lashing out. And Morgana? He didn't even know where to start.

He found himself guessing at what they had planned. How they planned to hold onto power. What they planned to do with him.

His thoughts going in circles, he didn't hear the knock on the door and only looked up when he heard a small cough.

"Gwen," he croaked out, annoyed at how feeble he sounded.

"Arthur." She sounded relieved - he wondered how far the sound of his screams must have traveled last night. "How are you?"

She came and sat on the end of the bed and Arthur watched her closely. She seemed more tired than when he last saw her and her hands shook slightly as she smoothed down the covers.

"I shouldn't be here, they'll beat me if they catch me and some of the soldiers are simply horrible but ..." She trailed off into silence, chewing her lip and twisting a loose thread from the blankets between her fingers. "Arthur, you have to keep fighting."

Arhtur looked at her quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"The people, they're growing restless. Morgause and Emrys care little for them and there are murmurings, rumours ... When you beat Cenred the other day, it gave them hope. Of course, you didn't beat him all by yourself but every time they see you, every time they see you still fighting, it helps them to keep fighting too."

"Wait ... but I did beat Cenred on my own, didn't I?"

Gwen's head shot up, her eyes round. "You didn't know?"

"Didn't know what?"

"Well ... he, Emrys, he helped you. He moved the sword so you could reach it."

"He what?!"

"Guinevere, do you have any particular reason to be in here other than palace gossip?"

Neither of them had noticed Emrys enter the room and Gwen went pale as she got hastily to her feet. Arthur's chest twinged in pain.

"No, my lord. I'm sorry, my lord. I'll be leaving now."

She hurried from the room without a backwards glance. A silence settled over the room after she'd gone.

"Is it true?" Arthur didn't know if he would dare say it until the words were out of his mouth.

"Does it matter?" came Emrys' cryptic response.

Arthur swallowed hard. Despite his thoughts the previous night, the memory of Emrys' torture and the residual pain he was still feeling, made him more than a little afraid at what Emrys might do.

"You can rest for today, I'll have Gaius bring you something to recover. Then you're to work on the training fields, aid my soldiers."

"That's servants work," Arthur said, then realised the joke his words were.

Emrys raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think you are anything more than a servant?"

_Play the game, let them think they've won. Bide your time_. More than ever now, Gaius' words were important.

"Nothing," Arthur said and added hastily, "Sire."

"Very good." A small smirk was on Emrys' face. "I'll see you tomorrow, I expect you to serve me for dinner."

"Yes, Sire."

With that, Emrys was gone.


End file.
